


bury all my skeletons (and let 'em stay dead)

by gealbhan



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fire Emblem Femslash Week, Mild Character Study, Post-Canon, ambiguous route, mentions of cordelia owain/odin & inigo/laslow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 01:44:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7915633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gealbhan/pseuds/gealbhan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Because there's someone I think you'd like to meet. An ambassador from another continent.” Camilla's eyes glint with subtle interest, nails curving at her chin. “I think she's a royal of some kind.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	bury all my skeletons (and let 'em stay dead)

**Author's Note:**

> \+ written for fire emblem femslash week day 2: endings, in a sort of loose way.
> 
> \+ the route is ambiguous - probably not revelation though. since i've only finished conquest (and i doubt camilla would be so cheerful, though it's a little muted, given the events of birthright), it's probably that, but like i said... ambiguous.  
> this is my first time writing fic in a while, and first overall writing for fire emblem, so i don't know if the characterizations are off or anything?  
> the ending is also a little ambiguous, but i guess happy-ish.
> 
> \+ tw for mentions of (canon) character deaths and brief violence.
> 
> \+ title is from river by oh, be clever.

All good things must come to an end, thinks Severa as she polishes her blade. Nothing lasts forever—not even her own name ( _Selena_ , everyone in Nohr calls her, and it feels wrong even when she says it herself) or hair (the same apple-red as her mother's, drawing a wince every time she looks into a mirror).

Nothing lasts forever, not even a war that seemed impossible to win.

Severa has fought her way through two (or three? two-and-a-half?) wars in her lifetime. She's sure that's too much for a girl her age, the things she's seen—her own parents's deaths, all of her friends crumpled to the ground like wingless flies.

 _We have to survive,_ Lucina had said one night in the future, all of them huddled around a campfire with Brady shakily wrapping their wounds. Something about her tone had been more bitter than Severa had ever heard it, and she was sure Lucina had changed when she took Falchion from Lord Chrom's cold, motionless fingers. All of them had, when their families caught flame: the world they knew was gone, and they'd had to change with it.

Now, Severa has had to change again, to fight another war at the side of a princess. She is packing up her bags to go back to Ylisse, to see her mother and father and friends, and... Lucina, who has somehow become a category of her own. She is sure Owain—Odin—and Inigo—Laslow—are doing the same, since there's little to protect their assigned child from now. Not when Hoshido and Nohr are at peace, if stilted, and splattered with blood.

But she's not expecting Lady Camilla to be outside the door to her quarters. She jerks her head down in what could hardly be called a bow, but Camilla doesn't seem to notice. The same soft smile is on her face.

“Are you leaving, Selena?” she asks, in a mild voice. “Because there's someone I think you'd like to meet. An ambassador from another continent.” Her eyes glint with subtle interest, nails curving at her chin. “I think she's a royal of some kind.”

Severa's blood chills. Of course it can't be—she shakes herself, meeting Camilla's gaze. There are plenty of continents, and plenty of royals. It doesn't mean it's her. She nods, and Camilla leads her to the courtyard.

It's her. Severa can tell, at first glance—the hair, though shorter than the last time she'd seen Lucina, is unmistakable. And then, there's the way she holds herself, even from the back. One hand is slack at her side, but her posture is painfully straight and the other hand rests over Falchion where it's sheathed.

Lucina turns, an immediate smile on her face. “You're Lady Camilla's retainer?”

Severa waits for it, the lightning bolt of recognition. It doesn't come. Maybe the disguise is better than she thought at first? She sinks to a knee, and says through her teeth, “One of them. My name is Selena.” It tastes bitter, and she almost stutters. And hates herself for it. She wants to get off of the damn ground and wants Camilla to stop staring at her; she wants Lucina to stop smiling at her, with a look in her eyes that could have stopped this war single-handedly.

“Princess Lucina of Ylisse,” says Lucina, easy; with a little bow. She gives Severa a double-take, and Severa braces herself. “Have we met before?”

“I don't think so,” says Severa, but she doesn't meet her eyes. “It's nice to meet you, Lady Lucina.” She adjusts her bag when she stands, and Lucina's eyes are drawn to that.

“Are you traveling?” she says, but there's still something wary in her eyes.

“I was planning on going back to my homeland,” says Severa. She shifts under the dual looks of Camilla and Lucina, both sharp. “It's a small country. I doubt you've heard of it.”

“I don't know,” says Lucina. “I travel a lot. And if I haven't heard of it, I'm sure my father or someone of our shepherds will have. Our lead tactician, the most.”

“Hm,” is all Severa has to say to that. “Well, I was going to head off sometime today. It's a long journey, after all.”

Camilla rolls her eyes, and splays a hand on Severa's shoulder. The motherly way she curls Severa towards her makes Severa's skin crawl. “I'm sure you could at least stay through our negotiations,” she says. It's more an order than a request.

Lucina frowns. “If she has to go, I have no intentions of forcing her to stay.” Her sword hand tightens. It's a nervous habit she doesn't seem to notice. She never has. Lucina doesn't get visibly nervous—not enough for anyone who doesn't know her to notice, at the least.

But Severa does know her.

And that's the problem.

“You know,” she blurts, feeling a rush of guilt she tries to push down, “maybe we have met before.”

Lucina's eyes snap to her, her Brand caught in the light. She looks her up and down, and Severa blinks for a second longer than, perhaps, necessary. “I'm sure we—wait.” Her eyes narrow. “Severa?”

Severa sighs, ignoring the look of surprise she gets from Camilla. “I guess.” Sometimes, she doesn't even feel like Severa—sometimes, she feels as if _Selena_ is going to swallow her whole.

“I thought so,” says Lucina, and her throat bobs. Severa's veins feel like ice again, but for another reason. “I—after Robin, you know, you left so suddenly. I thought—well...” A quick look to Camilla.

Camilla's fingers dig into Severa's shoulder for a second, and then relent. “I'll leave you two alone,” she says, glancing at Severa sharply as if to say _we'll talk about this later_.

Severa stares at the ground as Camilla's footsteps fade away. Lucina clears her throat, and straightens up again. Of course: she is a princess at heart, no matter how informal her father and the royals of Ylisse in general might be.

“I'm sorry,” says Lucina. “I didn't mean—”

“It's fine,” says Severa. It is a lie. But then, so is every other word she spits as _Selena_. It starts with introductions, and spreads through every sentences, like some kind of poison. She can't quite bring herself to drop the mask of Selena, even in front of Lucina. “It's nice to see you again.”

Lucina laughs, making Severa startle and look at her face. Lucina's eyes are shining, her lashes fluttering more than is natural. “It's nice to see you again, too,” she repeats. Somehow, it seems like she's mocking Severa. “Why did you leave?”

“I don't know,” says Severa. It's the first true thing she's said in a while. Lucina doesn't look like she believes her, not completely, so Severa repeats: _“I don't know.”_

They are both fighting tears now, though Severa will not admit it aloud.

“Did you leave because—” And Lucina cuts herself off, cheeks going red in a rare moment of visible weakness, but Severa knows what she means.

(The war was over, but Robin was missing and Chrom pacing constantly. And Severa was avoiding Cordelia whenever she could, taking meals in her room—even when they were on good terms, they weren't so good. And Lucina came to her and they argued and Severa drew her damn sword and challenged Lucina though she knew she would never win, somewhere, and Lucina refused and—

And Lucina said, “I love you,” and Severa dropped the sword and kissed her, and found herself with a letter the next day.)

“No,” says Severa, and again, she means it. She shuts her eyes, and admits, “I love you too,” since she never said it, then, focused on her own anger and sick pride and the bitterness swelling on her tongue and the head rush mashing her lips against Lucina's gave her.

Maybe she's making ends meet when she steps forwards, and Lucina's hand falls away from Falchion. Maybe it's a mistake when they draw together, and Severa swallows her tears like she always has.

Maybe it isn't an ending at all. Maybe it is, and Severa's too caught by the look in Lucina's eyes to realize it.

Maybe, and this the most certain of all, she doesn't care.

**Author's Note:**

> \+ please comment and/or leave kudos if you liked!!


End file.
